"Damn it! How arrogant they are! Barely more than a dozen of them, yet they demand that we slaughter each other daily, five lives a day?"
A wizard apprentice, his voice brimming with righteous indignation, shouted furiously.
To display his outrage, his face flushed crimson, he roared and slammed his steel blade into the deck with a sharp clang.
To drive a steel blade into the deck—one could not deny the man possessed a certain brute strength.
Yet most looked on with disdain. The sailors had already gone; only now did this fellow dare play the hero.
Even so, the wizard apprentices clustered around him, for they all shared a common enemy.
In their hearts, the apprentices considered the filthy sailors far beneath them—creatures of a lower order.
Though they had not yet ascended to true wizardhood, each bore the pride and haughtiness of one.
Some even reasoned that, with more than a dozen sailors aboard, perhaps the apprentices could pass three days in peace.
"Since five have already died today, let it be. Tomorrow we shall—"
…
The next day, the Faceless Masked Wizard stood on deck, counting the souls aboard.
Moments later, the wizard's sharp, mirthless laughter rang out. "Five are gone. It seems you are beginning to grasp the proper mindset of a Dark Wizard. Excellent, excellent. It appears I need not dirty my own hands today."
With that, he returned to his tent, ignoring the rest.
Solam, Yun Li, Bibiliona, and the boatswain soon departed as well, leaving two sharply divided camps upon the deck:
The sailors' camp, and the apprentices' camp.
The sailors, though but a dozen in number, were all broad-shouldered and battle-hardened. It often took three to five apprentices to best one of them—if at all—and true combat was another matter entirely.
The apprentices numbered nearly four hundred, a crushing advantage in sheer quantity, yet fractured into many small cliques, unity but a façade.
Sensing the tension, the sailors did not charge as they had the day before. Instead, one particularly burly sailor stepped forward and jeered, "Well? Haven't found five lambs for the slaughter yet?"
"We will not send our companions to their deaths! If someone must die, it will be you!"
The leading apprentice shouted these incendiary words from deep within the crowd, though he made no move to advance himself.
Some fools—or perhaps those shoved forward by those behind—rushed toward the sailors, the mass pushing inexorably forward.
"You're courting death!"
A sailor roared, sidestepped an incoming apprentice with nimble grace, and with a flash of his blade severed the youth's head.
The grisly trophy rolled into the crowd as the body staggered several steps before collapsing.
Elsewhere, three more apprentices surged ahead, only to be cut down in the blink of an eye by the sailors' brute force. Seeing four already dead, the sailors' leader fixed his gaze on the nearest apprentice.
The lad froze, terror rooting him to the spot—no one was foolish enough to die needlessly.
The apprentices jostled, shouting toward the front to ask whether the sailors had fallen.
The one singled out was none other than "Rat," the craven who had allied with Bai Yi after clashing with Yorklis on the first day.
Rat quivered under the gaze of the towering sailor captain, his axe trembling in his grip, inwardly cursing the wretch who had pushed him forward.
Glancing back, he found no one willing to advance. His former protector, the monstrous Andrew, had already perished to a true sea beast—no help would come.
Rat's narrow eyes darted wildly. As the captain advanced, blood dripping from his long blade, Rat let out a desperate scream and, in a moment of vicious inspiration, swung his axe into the skull of a female apprentice behind him.
With a sickening crack, she fell, half her head a ruin of flesh and bone.
"Five's enough! Five's enough! No more killing among ourselves!" he shouted triumphantly.
The sailors' leader, surprised by Rat's ruthless decisiveness, smirked coldly and withdrew with his men.
"You bastard! I'll kill you!"
A male apprentice roared, eyes bloodshot, staring murderously at Rat—the dead girl had clearly meant something to him.
Rat started, but the vengeful youth was quickly restrained by others.
What a jest—each apprentice was now a precious commodity. If one would not die, another must. Rat and the grieving youth were strangers to most; ideally, both would perish.
But since five had already fallen that day, killing another would be a shameful waste, so the crowd "kindly" held the man back.
…
Another tense day passed. Greene and his three companions remained together—no one dared to walk alone.
The next morning, the Faceless Masked Wizard offered his usual praise for meeting the quota, then vanished again.
The deck fell silent—until the apprentices themselves erupted into chaos. At the center were Rat and the youth who had vowed revenge, now backed by allies.
Rat too had called for aid—Bai Yi himself.
The two sides clashed violently. Rat, though shifty in appearance, showed no fear when pressed to the brink.
But fate was swift—minutes later, Bai Yi took a grievous blow to the back, then fell beneath a flurry of strikes.
In desperation, Rat dragged an opponent down with him, dying moments later. The vengeful youth stood victorious—
—until a short blade slid into his back, bursting from his chest. The killer melted into the crowd.
At the same time, Yorklis roared, "You dare?!"
In the chaos, someone had tried to strike down Yorkliana—a frail-looking girl, one eye wounded, always clinging to Yorklis's side.
She was an obvious target; four had died already—one more would complete the day's tally.
The would-be assassin, a tall, composed man, failed in his first strike and tried to vanish into the throng—
—but a massive vine erupted from beneath his feet, binding him fast. His muffled cries ended as Yorklis's axe split him in two.
"Filth!" Yorklis spat.
Blood spattered his face; Greene rushed forward, glaring daggers at the crowd as he pulled Yorklis back.
No further incident followed—the quota had been met. Yet many stared at Raffi with newfound awe.
A wizard apprentice who could wield sorcery held formidable sway; Greene's group would not be easily provoked again.
Even the sailors looked upon Raffi with respect, recognizing the threat she posed.
…
Days passed. All aboard longed for landfall, for each dawn was a fresh descent into hell.
The ship bore three castes.
The first: the tyrannical Faceless Masked Wizard, the boatswain, Solam, Yun Li, and Bibiliona—the undisputed rulers.
The second: the sailors and the rare apprentices like Raffi who commanded sorcery. In time, four others revealed their own powers, earning renown.
These five were quietly dubbed the "Five Great Spellcasters."
The third: all remaining apprentices.
Each morning, five were to die. The sailors mockingly called them "pigs," and the daily slaughter, "pig-killing."
Thirty days later, one hundred and fifty apprentices had been cast into the sea; the ship felt far less crowded.
Those who survived bore eyes of icy malice, their smiles long gone—hardened specters compared to the arrogant youths who had first boarded.
It was, perhaps, the necessary transformation from mortal to wizard's apprentice.
That night, Greene, Yorklis, and Yorkliana followed Raffi to the deck, where the other four Spellcasters had gathered nearly twenty followers.
The Five stood united, ready to decide something momentous.